All Across the Sands
Scattered all across the sands
A secret safe with all the world
Too vain to seem so capable
Can you hear it calling
Do you feel warmer
As the hired hand's exposed
How can a pretty painting show
Send them all packing out to Hell
A freight train laughs and rattles by
You kissed the girls and made them die
And I'll never come here again
Ah, we will never come here again
Ah, we will never play here again, again
After her call
After her call
After [sic] her call
And she calls
Autor(es): IAN GEORGE BROWN, JOHN SQUIRE